


even the heavens cease

by indigotortoise



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Boot Worship, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Sandalphon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 08:44:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20273167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigotortoise/pseuds/indigotortoise
Summary: Shortly after escaping Pandemonium, Sandalphon encounters Belial and decides to have sex with him, intending to steal his wings.





	even the heavens cease

The first lungful of fresh air almost burns in his chest, and Sandalphon has to squint his eyes against the glare of the sun as his body passes through the opening in Pandemonium, unused to such brightness after spending two thousand years inside the poorly lit cage. It doesn’t stay open for very long—mere seconds after he leaves, a tremor shakes the entire foundation of the massive prison, and the gap begins to close again. He whips around to see if he can pull anyone else out before it’s too late, but before him is nothing but solid stone, as though the opening was never there to begin with.

He exhales sharply, grateful that he happened to be in that particular part of Pandemonium when that roar reverberated through the skies and loosened the lid just long enough to let five or six of the beasts inside escape. He’s lucky to be one of them.

Spreading his wings to their full span, Sandalphon flies upwards and lands on an outcrop of stone where he surveys his surroundings. His fellow escapees have already scattered in various directions, now nothing but dots in the horizon; he doesn’t know where they’re going, and he doubts they know either, only wishing to put as much distance between themselves and the prison as possible before someone shows up to throw them back inside.

Is Lucifer aware of the jailbreak? Will he—Sandalphon shakes his head, trying to push the thought out of his mind before it can form. Lucifer won’t come for someone as insignificant as him. He’s too busy overseeing the skies from high up above to even spare him a single thought. To someone like that, he’s just a tiny ant in a grand landscape. His teeth press into the inside of his lip, and he can feel the anger rising like bile in his throat the longer he thinks about Lucifer.

He shakes his head again, banishing that man from his thoughts while he thinks out his next steps. If anyone comes to investigate the prison, it’ll probably be Michael or maybe Uriel. He won’t stand a chance against either of them in a fight, and he probably won’t have much luck escaping them once they’ve set their sights on him—he’d failed miserably when the rebellion was quelled back then and he was caught within a day. Not exactly one of his finest moments.

Would it be possible to hide his aura long enough to get in a sneak attack? He’d only need one carefully aimed strike with his sword to sever their wings.

...Wings. His mind keeps coming back to that word. If he wore even one pair of their six wings on his back and claimed the power within, it would level the playing field, wouldn’t it? He’d actually stand a chance. But doing so might be a danger to the world—they govern over the tetra-elements, after all, and taking even a little power could throw the islands into disarray.

Sandalphon finds himself caring little for that possibility, though—why should he care about the world? He never had a purpose beyond being a redundant spare; all Lucifer ever did was keep him caged in that garden and when he rebelled he tasted freedom only briefly before he was thrown into a slightly larger cage. Let the islands crash and burn; maybe Lucifer would finally open his eyes to those inferior to him when there are no skies left for him to oversee.

Sandalphon’s lips curve into a pleased smile, an amused noise bubbling in the back of his throat. He’s going to have to sleep on it, but the thought of tearing down a world that doesn’t need him appeals to the deep-seated bitterness he’s been holding on to for so long. He inhales a deep breath, unfurling his wings once more and takes off into the unknown. He’s certainly not going to wait for them at Pandemonium, if they deign to show up at all, and he wants to savor his newfound freedom before he seeks them out.

——

The skies are so vast he almost can’t believe it, an endless canvas of blue stretching in all four directions, dotted by islands and white clouds; it really drives home just how little of the world he was allowed to see. Lucifer had described it in detail to him back then, of course, but his descriptions didn’t do it justice, not one bit. 

He passes by several smaller islands covered in thick trees with no signs of being inhabited by skydwellers before he comes across a big one with a large port town sprawling along its western coast, and several smaller settlements scattered along the base of a mountain standing in the middle of the island like a pillar. After a moment’s consideration, he decides to avoid the settled areas since he doesn’t know how mortals are going to react to seeing a winged man, and lands in a forest clearing.

A couple of startled wind rabbits flee when he makes his descent, landing with two feet firmly planted on the grassy ground. It smells like damp earth and growing green leaves—not entirely unlike the garden, but wilder, untamed. A creek cuts through the clearing, the sight of its clear waters reminding him of how dirty he feels after being locked up for so long. There were pools of water in Pandemonium, maintained by beasts capable of conjuring water from thin air, but the privacy was limited and sometimes he’d feel like he could never wash himself completely clean.

Two thousand years ago, he’d balk at the thought of bathing in a creek in a middle of a forest, for fear of someone walking in on him, but right now? It sounds like a good idea. Hundreds of his fellow prisoners have seen him naked at some point or another so a mortal seeing him would be nothing, and it’s not like he can go to one of those bathhouses he’s heard about from Lucifer when he doesn’t have a single rupie to his name. (Do skydwellers even use rupies anymore, or have they switched to a different currency?)

Sandalphon begins to strip his armor and clothing off piece by piece, layer by layer, leaving them by a large boulder a few yards from the creek before stepping into the water. It’s pleasantly cool around his ankles, the ripples like a caress against his skin. The water barely reaches his hips at its deepest point, but that’s enough for him. He uses his hands to scoop up water, washing his face and arms and his hair until what feels like two thousand years of accumulated dirt has been scrubbed off his body. He wishes he had some of that soap he used back before the rebellion, but he’s gone long enough without such products that he doesn’t really need them to get reasonably clean these days. A proper bath would be nice, though. Once he gets his hands on some money, maybe he’ll go to a bathhouse; he deserves to relax a little before taking on one of the primarchs. 

He closes his eyes and sighs contentedly, his hand reaching down between his legs; he intends to just wash down there too, but he finds himself curling his fingers around the base of his cock. A pleasant heat curls in his abdomen, growing with each movement of his hand. He imagines himself with his foot digging into Uriel’s spine, grabbing at the base of his wings and ripping them out. It’s fucked up, and he knows he shouldn’t be getting off to this, but god the thought of having that power in his hands is _so_ good. But why stop there when he can steal the wings from the other three, too? He’d be strong enough to challenge Lucifer, to remake the world as he pleases.

A new world that needs him—wouldn’t that be grand?

Sandalphon comes within a minute, making no effort to hold back the encroaching orgasm, shuddering as ropes of come hit the water. Once his breathing returns to normal, he turns around and washes his hands before wading out of the creek. He doesn’t have a towel on him, so he uses his hands to smooth the excess water out of his hair and gives his wings a good shaking before laying down in the grass to let the sun and breeze dry his body.

He feels strangely relaxed—a feeling that only lasts about five minutes before a rustling sound from between the trees startles him into a sitting position. He scrambles to grab his sword and folds his wings around his waist to cover his nakedness before some unfortunate stranger steps into the clearing and sees his dick.

But the person that strolls into view isn’t a stranger. He’s no longer wearing that pristine white uniform, but his face and the way amusement glints in the depths of his eyes haven’t changed at all in all these years.

“Belial.”

“It’s been a while, Sandy. Don’t tell me Lucifer paroled you for good behavior?”

Sandalphon’s eyes narrow. An easy grin lights up Belial’s face, hands slipping into his pockets casually as he looks Sandalphon up and down as though he’s a prize horse he’s considering buying. Sandalphon doesn’t like this; he feels vulnerable like this, standing naked before the primarch of cunning.

“How are you still alive? I thought you died with the other traitors, _Deputy Head_,” he asks with an edge of animosity to his words, not answering the question. Sandalphon still doesn’t know everything that went on behind the scenes of the failed rebellion, but he does know he and the fallen angels (should he count himself among them even though he never officially joined?) were just pawns in a grander scheme. A fact he learned after he was captured and left to rot in prison—Lucifer didn’t deign to give him any details, only telling him that punishment must be carried out even though he was manipulated into joining the rebellion.

(Presumably, he thought Belial had talked him into it—except he hadn’t. Sandalphon simply saw the opportunity and jumped on it, spurred by anger and dissatisfaction.)

“Oooh, someone’s snappy. Cute,” he replies with a slight tilt of his head, his posture relaxed. “I wouldn’t preside over cunning if I couldn’t outwit dear Lucifer and his underlings. Having a knack for disguising my aura helps, too. ”

Right, his aura. He can do that too; it’s not particularly difficult in the short term. But has Belial really been hiding it all these years? No angel should be able to do that for longer than two weeks or so—any longer than that and you’re guaranteed to pass out from exhaustion.

“Why are you out here in the woods? How long were you standing behind the trees?”

Creators, Belial better not have watched him masturbate. There’s a pause that lingers a beat or two too long, as though Belial knows what he’s thinking and wants to savor the shame that’s taking up residence in his heart.

“I’ve been staying in a town east of here. When I sensed a familiar aura approach the forest, I decided to take a look,” he replies. “I just got here about two minutes ago. Shame I missed you taking a bath. Didn’t know you were a nudist, though—did you get a taste for it in prison? Speaking of, you didn’t answer my question earlier.”

Sandalphon wishes he would shut up, or better, just go away. But somewhat hesitantly, he decides to give him an answer.

“A hole opened up in Pandemonium. I don’t know what caused it, but it allowed a few of us to escape.”

Belial seems to contemplate this for a few seconds. “Something happened in Zinkenstill this morning. I’m not sure about the details, but an overwhelming presence appeared there. Whatever it was, it marked the beginning of something big enough to alter the fate of the skies.”

That just raises more questions, but Belial seems sincere enough when he claims he isn’t sure about the details, and ultimately it doesn’t matter, does it? All that matters is that it loosened the lid and gave him the opportunity to escape so he can bring the sky realm to its knees. So he doesn’t ask what possibly could have happened on an island he’s never heard of.

“As much as I enjoy the view,” Belial continues, shamelessly running his gaze along Sandalphon’s chest. “I think it’s time for you to get dressed so we can continue this conversation elsewhere. I’ll even treat you to dinner to celebrate your newfound freedom.”

Sandalphon’s gut immediately tells him to decline the offer because nothing good could possibly come out of it. But then the logical side of him chimes in before he can open his mouth, reminding him that he shouldn’t turn down free food when he hasn’t had a proper meal in literal millennia. Additionally, Belial is a potential source of information—of course, he knows better than to blindly believe what comes out of that serpent’s mouth, but he could get something useful out of him.

“...Fine. But I’m not getting dressed before you walk out of this clearing. I don’t want you watching me.”

Belial gives an amused sound at that but does as told, moving to wait behind one of the trees. Sandalphon hastily puts his wings away and puts his gear back on, all while throwing a glance in Belial’s direction every ten seconds to make sure he doesn’t try to sneak a peek.

——

Belial does most of the talking during their walk to the nearest town, giving Sandalphon a quick history lesson on the War five hundred years ago and how the skydwellers had successfully expelled the Astrals from their realm. Only a handful remained in a world they no longer ruled over and the primal beasts were left to their own devices.

The town is small with cobblestone streets and old dirt roads and tightly packed houses with steep roofs. The creek he had bathed in earlier flows into a river running through the edge of town and Sandalphon catches a glimpse of elderly women washing clothes on the riverbank. Belial leads him to a small eatery tucked away in a side street, where they’re greeted by the owner of the establishment—a Draph woman who gives a beaming smile and winks at Belial before sliding Sandalphon a curious look.

“Belial, aren’t you tired of going through boyfriends like underwear?” she asks in a fake-admonishing tone. “You’re going to break every heart on this island at this rate. What happened with that cutie you were with last week?”

Belial winks right back at her as he replies. “It was just a fling. He left for the neighbouring island to find new additions for his seashell collection. I mean, _conque_ collection—pretentious bastard always corrected me if I called it anything else.”

“He's _so_ going to be disappointed. There aren’t any beaches there.”

Belial’s smile curves in a way that Sandalphon finds unpleasant and something about the exchange makes his skin crawl.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” he interjects, looking between Belial and the woman. “We’re just... old friends. Belial said he’d treat me to dinner as a birthday present.”

He gives Belial a look, as if trying to tell him to go along with the story he made up on the spot. Belial just laughs and wraps an arm around Sandalphon’s shoulder, giving him an uncomfortable squeeze. “Birthday boy and I haven’t seen each other in a looong time, so we’re going to enjoy a nice meal and catch up before we take things to the bedr—”

Belial’s sentence cuts off into a pained noise when Sandalphon brings the heel of his boot down on his foot. The arm around his shoulder loosens enough to allow him to pull himself free and he can’t help but draw his lips up in satisfaction—Belial _absolutely_ deserved it.

——

It’s not long before the food arrives at their table in the corner of the establishment; baked gnocchi with mushrooms for Belial, lamb with mashed potatoes for Sandalphon, and some locally brewed ale for them both. Sandalphon brings a chunk of meat to his mouth, chewing tentatively. It’s tender but not too soft, and the flavor is fine—not perfect, but far better than anything he had in Pandemonium.

“It’s been a while since you had a decent meal, huh?” Belial asks as he takes a sip of ale, watching Sandalphon eat.

“Yeah. Some of the earth-aligned primals are able to grow fruit in Pandemonium, but they don’t taste very good and you have to be friends with the right people to get anything without stealing.”

Good thing he doesn’t require food or he would have starved to death in there. Sandalphon glances at the Draph woman, who’s currently wiping down the bar counter. “Is she a friend of yours? She seemed familiar with your disgusting habits.”

“Yup. With benefits, of course,” Belial replies with a pleased smile, and Sandalphon rolls his eyes. Is everything about sex with this guy? “Liz also rents one of her houses to me for cheap, so that’s an additional benefit to being friends with her.”

“What have you been up to all these years, anyway?”

“Wandered aimlessly among mortals, mostly. I don’t stay in one place for too long—I’m leaving this island in a month or two. What are you going to now that you’re a free man, Sandy?”

“I don’t know,” Sandalphon lies; he has no intention of telling Belial of his plans to steal the primarch wings. “Make sure I don’t get caught again, I guess.”

Belial nods, setting his half-empty glass down with a clink. “Good thinking. The primarchs aren’t actively looking for me nowadays, but I know better than to let my guard down. You should do the same. Watch out for the Erste Empire, too—I hear they’ve been using primal beasts for their own nefarious ends. Wouldn’t want you to end up rotting in a laboratory somewhere now that you’ve had a taste of freedom.”

Sandalphon’s body tenses minutely at the thought, remembering what it was like back in the lab, where the Astral researchers treated him like an insect under a microscope as they examined and assessed him, sometimes subjecting him to painful experiments to test his endurance and regenerative ability.

“Where are the primarchs these days?” Sandalphon asks, honing in on the important part of the conversation; Erste is concerning, but his priority is securing the wings.

“Hah, I’m not a voyeur who follows their dull lives,” Belial says between two forkfuls of gnocchi. “But I do know they’ve taken on incorporeal forms and rarely manifest in the physical world without good reason.”

The corner of Sandalphon’s mouth dips slightly despite his efforts to keep his expression as neutral as possible to avoid giving away his intentions. How is he supposed to steal their wings if they don’t have physical forms…?!

“Hm. Is there a problem, Sandy?” He asks, eyeing Sandalphon with interest. “If you need help loosening up, I’d be happy to oblige. You look like you need some TLC to forget about your troubles.”

He’s brushing his foot against Sandalphon’s calf under the table now, grinning lazily. Sandalphon instinctively moves his leg away, but not before a thrill shoots up his spine. No, he shouldn’t even consider—

Wait. 

Belial is also a primarch. The dark to Lucifer’s light, made to be equal in power. If he were to adorn his back with those draconic wings, there would be no need to steal more than one set.

All he has to do is wait for a moment of vulnerability and strike. 

Sandalphon swallows, feeling a faint blush creep up his neck when he looks Belial in the eye as he returns the gesture by rubbing the toe of his boot against his ankle. Belial’s grin broadens into something more satisfied, the glint in his eye promising all manner of things. He’s feeling determined now, and brave enough to verbally take up on what he’s offering:

“Make it worth my time.”

——

The house at the edge of town is sparsely furnished with only a few personal belongings, which made sense given Belial’s roaming lifestyle. One thing captures Sandalphon’s attention—a cylindrical object with a red cloth draped over it that sits in the center of a desk in a corner of the bedroom—but he’s given no chance to ask what it is before Belial puts his arm around him and pulls him into a kiss. 

When their mouths meet, the first thing Sandalphon notices is the faint smell of ale coming from Belial's breath and some cologne he can't put a name to. The second is that his lips feel very soft and warm against his own in ways that make his pulse hasten with excitement—for a brief moment, the sensation is almost enough to make him forget how much of a traitorous snake Belial is.

Belial draws back, grinning. “Was that your first kiss? Lucifer made that pretty mouth so soft but he never thought of kissing it?”

Sandalphon huffs in irritation and doesn’t deign to acknowledge the question with a response. He doesn’t want to think about Lucifer right now, and he decides that the best way to keep Belial from aggravating him more is to quickly bring a hand to the back of his neck and pull him into their second kiss—only for their noses to knock into each other. Sandalphon’s body stiffens at the mistake, but Belial just chuckles lightly, not bothered by it in the slightest.

“You get points for enthusiasm, but your technique needs work. Let me help you with that, Sandy.” 

He tilts his head and slants his mouth against Sandalphon’s for another go, winding kisses together in a slow rhythm that sends a shiver along his spine. Sandalphon’s eyes flutter shut as he kisses him back, unpracticed and more than a little unsure of how to do it correctly, but what he lacks in experience he makes up for in determination. He even feels daring enough to catch Belial’s lower lip in a light suck, pulling a pleased noise out of the other primal. It feels good and he only barely notices Belial’s hands reaching around to unfasten the closures of his chest armor, letting it clatter to the floor.

“That was better, wasn’t it? Now part those sweet lips for me,” Belial murmurs, drawing back once more, eliciting a soft little wet sound when they separate. His fingers come up to cup Sandalphon’s jaw and pinch his cheeks in, forcing them to pucker slightly. Sandalphon does as told and drops his mouth open just a little while giving Belial a pointed look as if warning him against doing anything weird.

Belial merely chuckles in response to the look before putting his mouth over Sandalphon’s once more, slipping his tongue into the crack of space and flicks his tongue against his in teasing little strokes; nothing too bold or fancy, just enough to ease Sandalphon into the feeling. Sandalphon inhales sharply through his nose at the light pressure of a wet tongue against his own. It’s a weird, foreign sensation that he doesn’t like at first, but as the seconds pass he finds himself not minding it as much. Heat pools into his face, arousal cutting into his thoughts.

His leggings are starting to feel a little tighter with the beginnings of an erection. The hand that took his chest armor off moments earlier is now sliding down his back to grope at his ass. Sandalphon doesn’t protest it, his own hands moving to unbutton Belial’s jacket and ease it off his shoulders and down his arms, his movements clumsy with how distracting the kisses are.

Once the garment has been removed, he slides a hand into Belial’s hair, fingers curling loosely against his scalp. He lets their lips part briefly to inhale a breath of air before stroking his tongue against the seam of Belial’s lips, the desire to taste him becoming stronger with each new sliver of heat. Belial parts his mouth in invitation and Sandalphon wastes no time hesitating, quickly sliding his tongue past the other’s lips. He cants his head slightly to the right for better access and flicks his tongue against the hard palate behind his teeth, then moves it slowly along Belial’s tongue, tracing the contours of it.

As the kisses continue, he reaches his other hand around Belial, fingertips brushing against the slits from where the bottom set of wings emerge. Even with the wings tucked away in Belial’s core, Sandalphon can feel the raw power they emanate against his skin; it’s an exhilerating feeling. He wants nothing more than to tear it out, but he knows he’s going to have to wait longer; he doesn’t think he could successfully get all six without Belial’s back facing him.

He needs to take charge and steer things in that direction.

Belial moans obscenely and breaks away from Sandalphon lips so he can suck on the sensitive skin below his ear while his fingers make quick work of the closures that keep the rest of his armor in place. The growing swell of his erection presses against the material of his underwear and Sandalphon can’t help the whimper that falls from his mouth; Belial is so skilled with his mouth and for a second he wants to forget about the wings and let the man reduce him to a puddle of loose limbs and satisfaction.

He’s maneuvering Sandalphon back towards the bed now, probably intending to push him onto the mattress and climb on top of him, but Sandalphon doesn’t give him the chance—when the back of his legs hit the side of the bed, he reminds himself that he can’t let Belial keep distracting him from his goal and he quickly puts his hands on his shoulders, forcing him down on his knees.

Belial doesn’t seem particularly bothered by it, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes as he puts a hand to Sandalphon’s leg, thumb tracing teasing circles through his leggings. 

“Mm, I was hoping you would take the reins,” He licks his lips, eyeing the growing bulge between Sandalphon’s legs. “Cilius thought you were a waste of resources, but I always saw the potential in you. You have so much raw emotion festering beneath the surface, just waiting to spill out—so be as rough with me as you wish.” 

“Do you ever shut up?” Sandalphon’s eyes narrow and quickly discards the belt and tattered cloth from around his waist before sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Don’t answer. Put that mouth to good use and lick my heels clean instead.”

The words leave his mouth before he can think better of it; where the hell did _that_ come from? 

There’s something dark in Belial’s eyes, but he obeys without complaint and scoots back a little before bringing Sandalphon’s left foot to his face, dragging the pink flat of his tongue over the side of the boot. There's nothing inherently sexual about making someone lick one’s footwear clean, but the sight of Belial working so obediently like a well-trained hound is sending a heady rush of power surging through his veins, making him breathe a little harder than before, his erection aching for attention.

Fuck, is he really so repressed that simply exerting dominance over Belial like this is turning him on? Maybe he should’ve tried to get laid back in Pandemonium. But he’s in control now; it might not be the starting point he imagined, but he’ll be able to tear those wings out soon enough. Might as well enjoy the ride until then.

Sandalphon sucks in an unsteady breath when Belial moves on to give the same treatment to the other shoe and lifts his leg a little to give him better access to a speck of dirt near his heel. Belial’s wrinkling his nose at the foul taste, but he continues until the leather is clean, slick and shined with spit.

“That tasted terrible,” Belial turns his head to spit on the floor to get at least some of the revolting taste out of his mouth. “Didn’t think a virgin like you would jump straight into that kinda stuff.”

“...You enjoyed it, Belial. You’re hard.”

Sandalphon can see the thick outline of his erection against the seam of his pants, straining to break free, along with a dark patch where precum had begun to seep into the material.

“Of course. Not as much as you did, though,” his lips split into a grin as he takes one ankle in his hands and starts dotting kisses up along Sandalphon’s leg. He takes his sweet time teasing him, sending a fresh wave of lust through his bloodstream as he nips at the inside of his thigh, inching closer to the junction between his leg and pelvis. “Mmm, your legs are fantastic. Makes me think that maybe Lucifer wasn’t _completely_ free of desire when he made you.”

Sandalphon wants to tell him to shut the fuck up, but his ability to string together a coherent sentence is compromised by a long pressured swipe of his tongue over his clothed cock. He can’t help the needy moan that falls from his lips, fingers gripping at the bedsheet. He lifts his ass off the bed for a second, allowing Belial to slide his leggings and underwear down his thighs.

He clenches a fistful of Belial’s hair and guides his mouth to the tip of his leaking erection. There isn't an ounce of hesitation when Belial parts his lips—in fact, the determination he shows in shoving his mouth over the entirety of Sandalphon's cock, taking him down to the base within seconds, is nothing short of _enthusiastic_. 

Sandalphon makes no attempt to stifle the noises that bubble up from the back of his throat. Belial’s mouth is warm and hot; he's never felt anything quite like this before, it's a sensation completely different from working his hand up and down his length and bringing himself to climax. His grip on Belial's hair tightens reflexively and his eyes slide shut, but he quickly opens them again. He doesn't want to miss out on the sight of Belial taking his cock into his mouth, lips stretching around his girth. It's such an incredible view and it's enough to make his legs tremble as the fire in the pit of his stomach is stoked into overdrive.

He’s so close. Just a little more—

—and then Belial abruptly pulls his mouth off his cock, looking up at him with a lust-drenched gaze and a sadistic grin. “Tell me, Sandy. Did you really think you can steal my wings?”

Sandalphon whimpers, the sound unbelievably pathetic to his ears. Belial had pulled him up to the precipice of orgasm, only to rip the pleasure away just as he was about to be flung over the edge. He blinks, a look of panic settling across his face. How did Belial know what he was planning?

“Hah. Looks like I was right on the money,” Belial rests a hand on Sandalphon’s thigh. “No one goes from calling me _Deputy Head_ with such venom to warming my bed in the span of a single afternoon unless they’re planning something.”

Sandalphon curls his fingers against Belial’s scalp, anger and frustration simmering, and he tries to ignore his cock leaking like a faucet. “Damn you.”

“You just escaped from prison and you’re rightfully angry at Lucifer. So you decide that you’re going to steal the primarch wings so you can challenge him. But since they’re all incorporeal now, I became the new target in pursuit of power. Did I get that right?”

Sandalphon wants the earth to open up and swallow him right this instant. Somewhat reluctantly, he nods. “I want him to watch as I burn everything he holds dear and reign supreme over a new world.”

Belial watches him with interest, letting his hot breath fan over his cock and making him shudder. 

“You’re aiming for godhood,” he says, amusement evident in his voice. “Damn, talk about setting the bar high. Unfortunately for you, I was never Lucifer’s equal. He always liked to say that there were no meaningful differences between our roles, but that was just hot air. So even if you stole my wings now, you wouldn’t be on the same level as him.”

The hand in Belial’s hair tightens. Sandalphon grits his teeth, trying to get his scattered thoughts back in order, but the burning need between his legs is making it impossible to think clearly enough. Logically, he should get up and leave because he has nothing to gain from staying here. He doesn’t want to, though—Belial made him feel so good and he wants to lose himself in that pleasure again.

“Stop talking and get back to work,” he says with a commanding lilt, pushing lightly at Belial’s head. Belial eagerly ducks down and drags his tongue along the raphe line separating his testicles and up the vein on the underside of his length. Sandalphon moans when Belial finally takes him into his mouth again, his other hand joining the first to fist Belial’s hair as the primal’s lips go further down until pubic hair tickle his nose. 

Belial sucks down and hollows his cheeks, creating a tight suction as he bobs his head up and down and it doesn’t take long before Sandalphon’s back at the edge, hanging by a frayed thread, release finally within reach. His midsection tightens with anticipation and then his orgasm rolls through him like a tidal wave, his legs shaking as Belial swallows every drop of semen with a satisfied sound.

He lets Sandalphon’s softening dick slide out of his mouth with a wet pop. “You know, I could be your advisor. You’re going to need one once you rule over the new world.”

Sandalphon just wants to slump back against the mattress and not move for the next five minutes. Instead he snorts and waits for his breathing to settle a little before replying: “Nonsense. I wouldn’t trust you to give me sound advice. I’d sooner keep you as a pet.”

“So naughty, Sandy! Is pet play your thing? But it's not a bad idea—I’ll service you while you sit on your throne every day and make sure you’re com-plete-ly satisfied.”

Belial’s words paint a vivid mental image where he’s wearing a collar and Sandalphon hates that he finds the idea appealing. He exhales a quiet sigh and lets go of Belial’s hair, letting his hands rest in his lap. “You seem to be encouraging me to do this. What’s your angle, Belial?”

“Mmm. I’ve lived in this world long enough. Watching it burn and seeing what your world be like would be interesting, I think,” Belial sits back, his hand sliding down between his legs to unfasten his pants and provide some relief for his trapped erection. “As long as you keep your hands off my wings, I have no objections. So here’s a little suggestion from me: Uriel’s an idiot. I don’t think it would be difficult to trick him into remanifesting, so start with him. The other three will have to regain physical form to look into what happened to him.”

Sandalphon's eyes flicker over Belial with an assessing glint, trying to measure his intentions; he knows better than to blindly trust what he has to say. But it actually sounds like a sensible plan. He only met Uriel a couple of times, but he didn’t seem like a smart man. Maybe he could use the Virtue Cores to his advantage and lure him out? He’s going to have to think on this later and consider various strategies.

Belial’s stroking his thigh again, looking at him expectantly. Even without saying anything, it’s clear that he’s waiting for Sandalphon to take the reins again, to continue what they started. Sandalphon wonders why Belial lets someone as inexperienced as him take the lead instead of pinning him to the mattress; Sandalphon would let him.

He belatedly realizes that he’s still wearing his hoodie and he quickly pulls it off, tossing it aside; he shivers as the cool air hits his flushed skin and then refocuses his attention to Belial. “Take your pants off and get on the bed.”

Belial rises to his feet and works his pants and underwear over his erection and down his legs until they pool around his ankles. Sandalphon feels the heat rise to his cheeks when he sees Belial’s thick length rise from a nest of dark curls. It’ll take another couple of minutes before he can get hard again, but he can already feel the arousal pulling at his mind again. He wonders what it would be like to put his mouth on him, to wrap his fingers around him and stroke him to completion. What would it be like to have Belial writhing under him and making him beg for his touch?

“Like what you see, Sandy?” Belial is grinning with smug satisfaction. Sandalphon ignores him and slips his heels off before standing up so he can remove his leggings; soon, there’s a pile of their combined clothing next to the bed. Sandalphon opens the nightstand drawer to check if there’s any lube he can use and sees a handful of square packets and a bottle. He doesn’t ask what the packets are, assuming that they’re some skydweller thing invented during his time in prison that he has no use for, and pulls out the bottle.

He tosses it to Belial and closes the drawer. “Get yourself ready for me.”

Sandalphon _was_ going to prep him himself, but something about the thought of Belial working himself open to take his cock appeals to him, making his mouth go dry. He climbs onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath the weight, and he watches hungrily as Belial sits on his knees and opens the bottle, liberally coating his fingers with the gel. He can’t see the fingers disappear into his body as Belial reaches back, but he does get to watch him shudder, breath hitching just a little. Sandalphon’s gaze slides down to his leaking cock, seeing the steady stream of precum running down the underside. Then he pulls it back up to his face to watch his expression twist with shameless pleasure.

“S-Sandy—” the sentence cuts off into an animalistic moan and Belial brings his free hand up to his cock, stroking it as he pushes his fingers deeper inside. Without thinking, Sandalphon shuffles closer and swats the hand away, replacing it with his own. The curved length of his cock is hot against his palm and he curls his fingers around it, slowly moving up and down. Belial moans again, rocking his hips into Sandalphon’s hand, back arching deliciously as his body seeks more pleasure.

Sandalphon can feel himself harden again, his erection slowly rising towards his stomach. All disappointment over not being able to steal Belial’s wings has washed away by now, replaced by raw desire.

Abruptly, he stills his hand, his grip tightening hard enough to prevent climax, causing Belial to cry out in frustration. The grin that finds its way onto Sandalphon’s face mirrors the one Belial wore when he pulled his mouth off his cock at the last second earlier. He tilts his head. “Oh? Did you want to come, Belial? That’s too bad.”

He loves that look on his face—could drink the sight of it all day. Belial bites his lip, looking at him with a contradictory mixture of frustration and gratification. He’s enjoying this as much as Sandalphon is, even when he’s being denied release. “You’re such a goddamn tease, Sandy—hahahaha!”

Sandalphon can see his arm move behind his back; even now, Belial is still thrusting his fingers into himself at a rapid pace. “Hmph. Maybe I should keep you on the edge until you beg.”

If his own erection wasn’t aching and demanding his attention right now, he’d follow through and edge Belial until he’s practically delirious—oh, how he would savor the crack in his his voice as he pleads for release, and then he would deny him just a little longer because he deserves it. Next time time, maybe—assuming there will even be a next time. Sandalphon doesn’t want to think about that right now, too focused on the present.

He releases his hold on Belial’s cock, and Belial pulls his fingers out of his ass before letting himself fall back into the mattress, spreading his legs wide in a lewd and obvious invitation. Sandalphon reaches for the bottle and hastily slicks his cock with lubrication without taking his eyes off Belial before settling himself between his thighs. It’s almost unfair how beautiful he looks like this, his perfectly sculpted body flushed with need and sweat peppering his eyebrows.

Reaching down, Sandalphon takes hold of his cock and lines it up to Belial’s entrance, sinking his length into him with clumsy need as he pushes his hips forward. He draws in a shuddery breath once he buries himself to the hilt, feeling the tight heat envelop him.

“Hah. You’re a little on the small side, but I think you can make up for it in other ways,” Belial is breathing heavily but still manages to sound entirely too casual for someone with a cock in his ass. Sandalphon glares at him for the unnecessary comment and moves, trying out an experimental rhythm.

“Can you _try_ being quiet for ten minutes? Your voice is grating,” Sandalphon wishes he had bothered to find something to gag the man with.

“Certainly, but then you’d miss out on all the _other_ sweet noises I’ll make.”

Belial is knotting his fingers into the sheets and the sweetest little noise Sandalphon has ever heard falls from his lips, sending a pleasurable shiver up Sandalphon’s spine, lighting up his blood with feverish need. He’s thrusting harder into his ass now, and Belial meets his every movement with urgency.

“You’re s-surprisingly tolerable when you’re under me,” Sandalphon murmurs, wanting to hear all the needy noises Belial will make for him even if it means having to put up with his comments. Belial just laughs and lifts hig legs up, allowing Sandalphon to quickly slide his hands to the underside of his thighs in a bruising grip. He keeps thrusting forward and settles into a harder pace, making Belial's back arch off the bed, his cock leaking precum against his stomach. Sandalphon will probably keep this moment as masturbatory material for the rest of his life.

Sandalphon’s nails dig into his thighs hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks and he leans his weight on them, practically folding Belial in half with his knees nearly touching his shoulders. This new angle allows for deeper penetration and he rolls his hips, moaning as he continues to fuck into him at a steady pace. Nothing has ever made him feel this good before.

He’s still a little sensitive from his previous orgasm and it isn’t long before he’s straining towards completion, balls smacking against Belial’s ass each time he pistons into him with relentless speed. Belial’s hand slides down and he strokes himself in time to Sandalphon’s movements and if he wasn’t so caught up in the ripples of pleasure Sandalphon would have put a stop to it, denying him release again.

“Are you still going to comment on my size after this?” he manages to ask between ragged breaths, leaning down to press his mouth to Belial’s clavicle. 

Belial grunts in response, and Sandalphon kisses sloppily against the bone before detouring to the intriguing musculature at the base of his throat, sucking on it as his abdomen tightens with his impending orgasm. It blooms fast and hot as he shoves his hips into Belial a couple more times, spilling every drop of himself deep inside his body. 

He’s breathing hard against Belial’s skin, his movements coming to a halt. Sandalphon pulls out and sits back on his knees, glancing down to see his semen dribble out from Belial’s ass. His body feels boneless and depleted of energy, but he still wants to watch the other primal spill over the edge, not relinquishing his hold on his thighs just yet. Belial bites his lip, his eyes tightly closed and his hand slips up and down his erection with quick, needy movements. His face contorts with pleasure when he comes less than ten seconds later, ropes of semen cascading over his fingers and his stomach.

Sandalphon moves to sprawl out next to him, saying nothing. There’s a persistent voice tugging at the fringes of his mind than tells him that this was a mistake, but he ignores it so he can enjoy the post-orgasm bliss. He deserves to feel nice after rotting in jail for so long, really—and once he leaves this place he won’t allow himself to rest until he’s put his plan in motion and the primarch wings are on his back.

“Thinking about godhood, Sandy?” Belial drapes an arm around him, nuzzling his face into his neck. Sandalphon lets him, sighing contentedly.

“Lucifer is going to pay for his ignorance,” he says, quietly. “I can’t wait to see the look on his face once I’ve destroyed everything he swore to protect.”

“As he deserves. Good luck out there—I look forward to your little apocalypse. Make it a memorable one, ooookay?”

——

Once Sandalphon has left, Belial heads back upstairs to the bedroom and removes the cloth draped over the glass jar on the writing desk. He holds it so he can admire how the light frames Lucilius’s face perfectly, even when suspended in liquid. He knows those closed eyes will give no response, that these conversations have been one-sided for two thousand years, but speaking to the cold glass jar clutched between his hands is a habit he cannot break. Nor does he want to break it.

“I wouldn’t count on it, but Sandy might be of use,” he whispers, pressing his mouth against the glass, wishing he could taste those sweet lips again. “He’s Lucifer’s weak point. If he’s forced to come down and confront his rampaging pet, he might let his guard down long enough for me to swoop in and cut him down.”

As always, Lucilius says nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> tfw you get topped by a virgin who doesn't even know what condoms are
> 
> That said, thank you for reading! Belisan is my OTP for this fandom but content is scarce so I decided to contribute with my own - I hope you enjoyed it! I originally intended to write post-WMTSB2 belisan but then I remembered what an angry little disaster WMTSB1 Sandy is and felt that it would be easier to write him being willing to put his dick in Belial.
> 
> My twitter is [indigotortoise](https://twitter.com/indigotortoise), feel free to follow me there.
> 
> EDIT: drwnkk @ twitter drew [this amazing piece of fan art](https://twitter.com/drwnkk/status/1163589304020602882) based off this fic, so please go take a look!


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